


Good Girl

by kribban



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Crack, Gen, Hellhounds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-31
Updated: 2015-03-31
Packaged: 2018-03-20 14:28:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3653784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kribban/pseuds/kribban
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For Carpecaseum's prompt at the 2015 spnspiration April Fool's challenge:</p><p>Sam & Dean - Let Sleeping Dogs Lie</p>
            </blockquote>





	Good Girl

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to jonjokeat @ LiveJournal for the beta!

Dean could never forget the smell. 

You'd think it would be the sounds (growls, panting, teeth snapping) or the sensations (feeling chunks of skin and muscle being torn from his body) but no, his number one sense-memory of going to Hell was how the Hellhounds had smelled.

He'd dug up enough corpses in his time to know what decaying flesh smelled like, and Hellhounds stank like they had centuries-worth of victims' remains stuck in their teeth. It was a smell he'd recognize anywhere, even in deep sleep in a rundown motel room.

Before he had a chance to move he felt a large weight press up against him. 

Sam was at the foot of the bed before he'd finished screaming. He had a knife and a horrified expression, wearing only a dress shirt and briefs which would have been funny if Dean wasn't moments from being torn to shreds. At least this time he might end up in Heaven. 

Suddenly, a loud snore filled the room. 

Sam looked bewildered. “Is it sleeping?”

Dean was now alert enough to know that several seconds had passed, which was several seconds longer than the normal life expectancy of a Hellhound victim. He stared at the large indentation where the invisible beast had sunk down on the mattress. “I think so.”

Sam nodded. “Can you move away slowly?”

Trying his best not to hyperventilate to death, Dean started inching back. The weight shifted and the Hellhound let out a sleepy whine. “I don't think so!” 

The beast moved again and suddenly, Dean felt its large, furry head against his leg. 

Sam's eyes widened. “Is it _cuddling_ you?” 

A memory from a couple of months back came to him. Dean stared at the blank space where the beast was breathing hotly against his skin. “Juliet?” 

The Hellhound let out a soft, content whine. 

Sam nodded nervously and took a few steps backwards without lowering the knife. “I'm calling Crowley. You better, uh, cuddle it back.” 

 

 

Sam's jaw was so tightly clenched Dean thought it was a miracle he was getting any words out at all. 

“I don't have time for your games, Crowley! You call off your beast right now, and maybe I won't kill you the next time I see you.”

Dean almost rolled his eyes. If they got out of this alive he would have to tell Sam that his empty threats to Crowley were getting really pathetic. 

“What? I don't know!” Sam looked from Dean to the indention on the bed. “Is it sleeping?”

It was a good question really. Dean's hand stilled on the greasy fur. He carefully moved his hand to the top of Juliet's head. She was perfectly still except for the small movements caused by her calm breathing. He couldn't tell if her eyes were closed but her body felt relaxed and heavy. Yeah, she was definitely sleeping.

He stroked down her back slowly. He had forgotten how much he missed her. Whenever she had claimed a soul she would seek him out and demand to be rewarded for her good work. He had petted and cuddled her and after a while she had started bringing him little gifts. Mostly it had been fingers or ears, but once she'd brought him an almost intact human heart. 

“She's not an 'it', Sam.” 

“What?” 

“Juliet. She is sleeping, and you better keep your voice down or you'll wake her.”

Sam stared at him for a moment. “Crowley. I'll do whatever you want. Just get _over_ here.” 

 

“Such a heart-warming display. A dog and her bitch, reunited at last.” 

Dean heard the voices coming from the other side of the room but he didn't look up. He was too busy riding the wave of oxytocine to care. 

“I don't get it. Why isn't she attacking him?”

“Hellhounds don't attack other creatures from hell. Honor among beasts and all that.”

“But Dean's not a demon anymore. We cured him.” 

“There are two possible explanations. One, Juliet here is too infatuated to care. Two, there's just enough demon left in your brother to make him fly under the radar. Feel free to pick the one you're most comfortable with.”

“So she won't hurt Dean.”

Crowley snorted. “Doubtful. You on the other hand? I'm surprised the stench of your humanity hasn't woken her... finer instincts.”

Juliet killing Sam, Sam being killed... There was something about that possibility that made Dean uncomfortable. He made a herculean effort to engage in the conversation. 

“Get out of here. Both of you.”

“That's not a good idea. See, Juliet has imprinted on you. If you were still a demon, that wouldn't be a problem, but you're human which means the endorphin feedback loop you're on will keep you in that bed until you die from dehydration.” 

Dean rubbed Juliet's ears, savoring the cute noises she was making. “Doesn't sound so bad.”

“Normally, I would be happy to leave you two to it, but your brother here has promised me, time and _delicious_ time again, that he'll kill me if I let anything happen to you.”

From the way Sam exhaled Dean knew he was probably making a bitchface. He almost found the thought amusing, but not enough to check if he was right.

“All right, it's time to break you two lovebirds up.” Suddenly, Crowley was in his field of vision, leaning down next to the bed. “Juliet? Come here, girl.”

Juliet's ears twitched but she didn't lift her head. Dean continued petting her.

“She likes me better.” 

“Nonsense, I'm her daddy. Juliet? I have some fresh, bloody entrails waiting for you at home.”

Juliet let out a soft whine and started licking Dean's hand. Her tongue was warm and wonderfully scratchy. “You heard her, she wants to stay with me.” 

“All right, I tried.” Crowley sighed and stood up. “Have fun with the starvation.” 

“Garozzo's.” Sam hissed. “In Kansas City. I'll wear the suit.” 

“Leave the jacket.” 

“Fine. Now will you please help my brother?”

The bed dipped on Dean's other side and Crowley leaned in to join in on petting Juliet. 

“You really like her don't you?”

“More than you ever have.”

Crowley continued, unfazed. “And it's obvious she's very fond of you. What do you think will happen to her once you've died?” 

Dean hadn't thought of that. “What are you talking about? She'll be fine.”

“Will she? Look at her, she loves you. What do you think it will do to her to watch you wither away?”

Dean caressed Juliet's face carefully. It felt large and hairy and beautiful. “She'll get sad.” 

“Yes, she will,” Crowley said softly. “She will be very sad.” 

Dean tried to picture Juliet with a sad expression on her face, her blood red eyes large and pleading. He felt himself tear up. Damnit, he'd almost made it a week without crying. “I don't want to make her sad.” 

Crowley patted him on the back gently. “I know, Dean. You know what you have to do, don't you?” 

He did. But knowing didn't make it any easier. He leaned down and buried his face in her greasy fur. “You don't treat her as well as I did! That's why she came back to me.”

“I'll do better, I promise.”

Dean started sobbing into Juliet's fur. “Promise you'll give her tummy rubs! And treats after every mauling.”

“I promise.” 

“You have to tell her she's a good girl and scratch behind her ears. She likes that.” 

There was a gentle tug on his elbow and Dean reluctantly let himself be pulled into a sitting position. He patted Juliet's head carefully. God, he hoped he wasn't breaking her heart.

“Baby, it's time you went home. Your daddy will take good care of you. It's not that I don't love you, I just know it's better for you to go home.” 

There was movement and suddenly Dean felt the broad strokes of her tongue on his face. He savored the smell of her breath and gave her a reassuring pat on the neck. “I'll be okay.”

The mattress bounced and Sam took a terrified step back as Juliet jumped off the bed.  
With a cry Dean fell forward, as if his body was trying to follow her. “Be brave, girl. Be brave!”

Sam looked worried. “Is Dean going to be okay?”

Crowley took out a plastic bag and started feeding Juliet strips of raw meat from it. 

“He'll _never_ be okay, Moose. But the hormones will wash out of his system in a day or two.” Crowley smirked, “I suggest you get him a body pillow and let him cry it out. Do take pictures.” 

Sam gave a curt nod. “Thank you.”

“Don't thank me.” Crowley put a hand around Juliet's collar and winked. ”Be on time.” 

The next second he was gone, and so was Juliet. 

Dean let out a wailing cry and curled in on himself. He could feel the separation like a physical wound, and he'd had plenty of those. The bed dipped again as Sam sat down next to him. “Do you want a blanket or something?”

The scent of Juliet still lingered on the comforter and Dean buried his face in it. His body shook with the force of his sobs. “Oh Sam! Do you think she'll even remember this?” 

Sam patted his back awkwardly. “Unfortunately, I think we all will.”

 

It didn't hit him until the next morning. He'd slept most of the day, and the strangely hungover feeling was finally starting to subside. He spit out his tooth paste and ran out of the bathroom, grabbing Sam's shoulder hard enough to bruise.

“You agreed to go on a date with Crowley?!” 

Sam looked at him calmly. “You cried yourself to sleep hugging a pillow. I have photos.” 

Dean stood frozen for a second before snatching his hand away. “We'll never talk of this again.”


End file.
